


how to burn a bridge

by plumadesatada



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, FrostIron - Freeform, Gen, Tony Feels, civil war spoilers, help i've fallen into tony's headspace and i can't get out, like MAJOR tony feels, preslash, weird ??? new style i came up with for no reason???
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-19
Updated: 2016-06-02
Packaged: 2018-06-09 08:46:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6899164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plumadesatada/pseuds/plumadesatada
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p></p><blockquote>
  <p>you're the architect of your own bridges</p>
</blockquote>The events of Civil War have shaken Tony's world, and now he's scrambling keep his balance. Nothing is certain anymore and he can't think objectively: he's about to make a huge mistake. Luckily for him, his interests align with those of the king of Asgard.
            </blockquote>





	1. I did it for you

**Author's Note:**

> apparently all it takes to break a writer's block is new canon treating your fave like shit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki does what Tony doesn't have the courage to do.

Tony watched the 'hold' light blink, smiling vaguely. Steve fucking Rogers, everyone, hypocrite extraordinaire, and yet... And yet he was sorry he'd lost the asshole's loyalty. He shouldn't, for a lot of reasons, but the bitterness had lodged in his throat and there was nothing he could do about it. Just like there was nothing he could do about Steve breaking his fellow super-powered criminals, sorry, _heroes_ out of the max security prison floating in the middle of the Atlantic ( _seriously whose brilliant idea was that "let's keep all our most dangerous criminals conveniently together in one undetectable and armed-to-the-teeth submarine" haven't seen floor plans this bad since the death star_ ).

Sighing, he leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. He wondered, distantly, what Steve would think if someone of Zemo's unit broke him and a bunch of superpowered douchebags out of prison and then they, as a group, disappeared into the ether. Would even realize just how—no. Of course he couldn't. He and his friends were _different_ , see, they were _the good guys_ , so it was ok for them to flout the law. Hubris. Steve never looked back. He had no regrets; or, if he did, he regretted he hadn't saved someone, not something he'd done.

Tony wished he could say the same about himself.

He needed a drink. He needed a drink five minutes ago. Maybe Rhodey would want one too. They could drink themselves better just like thirty years ago when they were still dumb kids with acne trying to get over the latest breakup. God, he was 46 years old now, and Rhodey was, what, 48?, even older. They were two old men who'd just been kicked in the balls by life. They had earned their comfort booze.

He groaned tiredly and stretched, mindful of his sprained wrist. As he moved to stand, his eyes landed on the letter. Steve's sorry-not-sorry olive branch ( _except thorny more like thistle branch than olive branch do thistles have branches  thistle stem whatever i'm not a gardener_ ). "If you need me, I'll be there," Steve had said and, well, would you look at that, Tony sorta kinda needed him right now. His life had gone to shit in a week: Pepper needing a break from him, friends betraying him, Rhodey getting paralyzed from the waist down, mom's killer getting away scott free—

Steve's shield coming down on his head like a guillotine

—nope. Not thinking about that. Deep breaths ( _sweep the memory under the carpet with the rest of the things we don't think about_ ). He wasn't in a bunker in Siberia with the man he'd secretly looked up to all his life ready to kill him to prote—no, wrong, still thinking about it. He stared fixedly out the window, biting his cheek hard enough to draw blood. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, _fuck._

His eyes flitted unbidden to the flip phone sitting on his desk, all glossy and tacky and early 2000s. He _needed_ Steve —needed to yell at him, to demand explanations, to see if he could verbally slap some sense into him, to ask if he was alright, to apologize for trying to beat his best friend into a pulp, to apologize for generally being _him_ , to ask Steve if maybe he'd like to come back— and Steve was only a phone call away, wasn't he? Should he call? Or would that make him the annoyingly clingy ex girlfriend ( _doesn't get that the relationship is over, dead, buried_ )  in this scenario?

Would Steve take his neediness as an admission on his part that Steve had been right? Because no, he hadn't been right. He really hadn't. Tony knew this, in his head if not in his heart—his little broken shattered vibranium heart. Or worse, what if Steve hung up on him because no, he hadn't meant if Tony needed a hug or an ear or a shoulder or a kind word, don't bother him unless Tony can't save the world all by himself ( _i try, oh god do i try_ )?

He'd rather not try. Until he tried, he wouldn't be denied or shamed or put down. Schrodinger's phone call.

And yet the phone beckoned. It was the only link to the people he'd been so certain would stick with him through thick and thin, if only because they'd shared a common goal ( _do we still i wonder_ ). Maybe if he only conceded this battle... It would be no different than sucking up to another company's CEO to get the contract, like he'd done for Ob—no, not thinking about that either. Not remembering the things he did for Stane ( _obie_ ). He rubbed a finger along his lower lip, watching the phone.

Hating himself, already regretting this decision, he reached for it.

Only for someone to grab it before he could.

"Rude, I was usi—" he began, looking up at whoever had touched his stuff, and then ( _oh shit no no nonono_ ) he jerked back bodily, eyes bugging out.

The chair unbalanced in his mad scramble to _get the fuck away_ , throwing him to the ground. Barely even registering the pain of the fall ( _no nono please no_ ), he crawled backwards _(away run away)_ until his back hit the wall ( _trapped_ ), and the contact jolted his brain back online _(fight back get away)_. He pulled his wristwatch over his fingers and pointed the still assembling gauntlet at Loki, heart racing and breath stuttering.

Loki glanced at him calmly and then at the phone. He had Tony at his mercy and he just flipped the phone open ( _no_ ), examined it ( _don't_ ), said: "Such a fragile thing, brotherhood", and broke it in half ( _NO_ ).

Tony heart broke along with it. His only hope for salvaging his friendship with half of the Avengers and, snap, gone just like that. Now he was all alone again—no, wait, he was a genius, wasn't he? He could fix it. Unless Loki killed him ( _no, fuck, i survived him once, i can do it again_ ) first _._ He swallowed hard and let out a shaky but silent breath, and managed to stifle his panic attack under the facade of unconcern he'd been wearing for the past four years. "Loki, my man, long time no see," he greeted, insincerely friendly, and his voice almost didn't shake. "Personally, I wish it had been longer. No offense."

Loki crushed the remains of the flip phone ( _now I_ _can't fix that thanks_ ) in his hands. "None taken," he said, letting the tiny bits of plastic and circuitry fall to the floor. Only after dusting his hands to rid them of the debris that had stuck to them did he finally deign to look at Tony. He gave him a once-over ( _bet i look pathetic_ ) and the corners of his mouth turned slightly down ( _okay definitely i look pathetic_ ). He offered Tony a hand up.

Heart was still racing, Tony took the hand ( _play along with the nice mr psycho_ ) and allowed Loki to pull him to his feet. It was dry and warm and firm; there was no objective reason for the contact to make his skin crawl as much as it did. He let go as soon as he could ( _will sulfuric acid clean this_ ) and smoothed his clothes. His fingers were trembling noticeably, so he stuffed his hands in his pockets to hide it. "So, what brings you out of the underworld and into my humble abode?"

Loki lips widened in a sly little smile, like Tony's skin was transparent and he could see right into his guts, see them churning with fear, his heart struggling, his lungs quivering with adrenaline. He'd definitely noticed Tony's shaky hands. "A favor."

Tony thought of the remains of the phone and of how exactly they'd become remains and forced himself to grin. "I don't know what constitutes a favor in Hell, but here in Earthgard, breaking people's stuff is kinda the opposite of a favor." Oops, that came out too patronizing. Shit.

The alien god watched him in silence for like ten million years, eyes glittering, and then, just as Tony was starting to break into cold sweat, he grinned back. "Is it? Is it really? When I am preventing you from making a grievous mistake?"

Tony looked into those feverish eyes, too wide around the edges, too white around the pupils. Mad. He suddenly remembering those same crazy eyes staring into his soul four years ago, remembered the crushing grip around his throat, the window breaking his ribs as it broke behind him, the freefall in a rain of shards ( _breathe_ ), the ground coming up to meet him ( _breathe_ ).  He wasn't unarmed this time, he reminded himself. And he refused to back down. "Mistake?" he drawled, arching an eyebrow in the most derisive way he could manage. "What mistake?"

( _you know what mistake, tony, you knew even as you were about to do it_ , _shut up nobody asked you_ )

"Mmhm," Loki nodded. "You think that if you change, he'll meet you halfway." His grin faded. "That if you give him what he wants, he'll give you what _you_ want." His voice had grown soft, distant, and his wide eyes were more stricken than mad as they stared at some memory past Tony's shoulder. "But when the other person refuses to compromise, the only middle ground you can find is the one you concede."

Tony looked away, he couldn't bear ( _am I headed there too)_ the naked pain in Loki's eyes ( _was it the crazy that caused the heartbreak or the heartbreak that caused the crazy)._ Hadn't he been thinking exactly that only moments ago, that Steve wasn't going to give, so maybe he should be the better man ( _again, again, again, bend over backwards, just like with howard_ )? His throat ached. Then he remembered where he was and who was with him, and resumed watching Loki. Just because what he was saying rang painfully true, it didn't mean he wasn't about to kill Tony on a whim.

Loki had remembered himself, too, and he met Tony's gaze unashamed. "And then one day you realize you've given everything away and have nothing left to stand on." He smiled bitterly. "With some people, there is no middle ground."

Tony grunted noncommittally ( _who he's talking about thor odin both_ ) and crossed his arms over his chest. "Is this the part where you tell me we're more similar than I think?" Because the last thing he needed right now was to be compared to Bag of Cats. He already knew how goddamn similar they were. And he'd managed to avoid thinking about it for years.

"No, Tony Stark," Loki said ( _ooh full name, ominous_ ). "This is the part where I remove the chance of compromise." He picked up Steve's letter by the corner, holding it like it was a used condom he'd found in his breakfast cereal.

Eyes widening in sudden understanding, Tony leapt forward, hand stretched, shouting "Don't you da—"

Too late. The letter caught on fire.

"—re!" he finished. He tried to grab the letter ( _maybe I can salvage it_ ) _,_ only for Loki to hold it out of his reach. He tried again ( _you fucker give_ ), and Loki put a hand on his shoulder, holding him back ( _me back my_ ), but Tony pushed at him recklessly ( _goddamn letter)_ , trying to get to the letter. He didn't stop ( _no_ ) until the last bit between Loki's fingers ( _no, no, no_ ) was burned through _(NO)_.

Steve's last words to him —smug, patronizing words, yes, but _still_ words that held the promise of friendship if only Tony would admit he was wrong— had vanished in a plume of smoke. They were now hot air and ashes. And all because some fucker from outer space had decided that no, Tony shouldn't do it, shouldn't have to bite his tongue and swallow his words and apologize for doing the right thing. And he _would_ have done it, for Steve. For all of them.

But now he couldn't.

In the stillness of the aftermath, Tony felt Loki's hot puff of breath on his face and it was the last straw. "What have you _done?_ " He barely heard the whine of the repulsor powering up over the rushing of blood in his ears.

The repulsor blast hit Loki square in the chest and sent him crashing through the desk behind him and to the floor. The million glittery shards of the glass desktop rained on Loki ( _owed you a fall through glass son of a bitch_ ), the larger pieces cutting open the skin of his face and hands.

When the dust cleared, Loki propped himself up on an elbow and coughed. "Are you done?"

Oh, hell yes he was done. He was _beyond_ done—done putting up with shit. He took two steps closer and, screaming, sent another blast at Loki's face ( _die_ ) to burn off the taunting curve of his lips. Loki didn't throw his arms up fast enough to catch it, but he managed to catch the next one. So Tony aimed for his stomach next ( _die_ ), burning a smoking patch on his stupidly elaborate leather clothes. And he would have hit him a fifth time, if a hand hadn't caught him by the wrist ( _who dares_ ) and diverted the blast into the floor three feet away from Loki ( _missed)_.

He whirled around, ready to punch that hand's owner, only to find another Loki there, holding his wrist in a vice-like grip ( _what_ ). He froze for a second and quickly looked at the floor where he'd been a second ago. He found only scorch marks.  He looked back to Loki, snarling. "Let go of me."

Loki stared him down, all raised hackles and bared fangs. "I don't think I will," he growled darkly.

If Tony had been in his right mind, he would have backed down. But, as it was, he still wanted nothing better than to blow Loki's fucking head off his shoulders, and he could do it. Happy had taught him well. Without warning, he threw a kick right at Loki's crotch ( _take that_ ). Loki dodged, but by doing so his he sacrificed his hold on Tony wrist ( _there_ ), and Tony managed to nail him in the face. It knocked his head back and he tumbled backwards, and then he caught himself and turned the fall into a kick that caught Tony in the ankle.

The world became white-hot pain. He couldn't think, couldn't see, couldn't do anything but fall down onto Loki. Then he was grabbed by the throat ( _not again_ ) and the pain and the threat only fueled his fury. He grabbed Loki's wrist with his gauntlet-clad hand and discharged the repulsor point blank against it. Loki howled in pain ( _yes good finally_ ) and, eyes sparkling like high-voltage short-circuits, he slapped Tony so hard he fell off to the side. Before Tony could finish blinking the white spots away, Loki grabbed him from behind in a bear hug.

Tony twisted around, trying to break free. "Let me go!" yelled, not giving up. He lifted his hand with the repulsor on it and aimed it at Loki's face. "Or I'll blast you in the face!"

"You won't," Loki murmured in his ear ( _yuck_ ), "because, if you do, you'll blast _yourself_ in the face too." But rather than call Tony's bluff, he snatched the hand out of the air and pressed it, repulsor facing inwards, against Tony's abdomen.

And now Tony was effectively immobilized. He fought against Loki's grip, still huffing and puffing like an angry bull, and so what if his sprained wrist or bruised ribs ached for it? He needed to punch Loki's nose in. "Let go of me! I'll kill you!"

"You are hurting yourself," Loki said simply, the little shit, as if he wasn't pressed up against Tony like a sexual harassment suit waiting to happen.

He held Tony still, his arms too long and strong for a simple mortal out of his protective tin can to get any leverage. No matter what Tony tried, it was like throwing himself against a wall, he couldn't hurt it and the only thing he achieved was more pain. There was no way he could get out. There was no way he could win. Again. The only way to survive was to give up.

So he gave up.

With full-body sob.

And once he'd done that, it was like he'd opened the floodgates. Hot, fat tears started streaming down his face and he couldn't even wipe them off because he was trapped. His lungs burned around half-finished breaths of acid air. The mess of unwanted feelings became toxic waste inside him, bubbled up until he choked and vomited them out in a broken wail that shook glass.

And, slowly, Loki's death-grip on him gentled, until it became a normal grip, and then a hug, and he held Tony while he wept and sobbed and shook and wailed and turned around to bury his face in Loki's chest and covered the ruined leathers with snot.

It took several long moments, but at some point Tony calmed down enough that the sobs turned into weak sniffles.

"Do you feel better now?" Loki asked into his hair, gently, like Tony might start again any second now.

Douchebag. "Nope," Tony replied, muffled by Loki's shoulder. He didn't feel better so much as exhausted. The truth: he hadn't allowed himself a breakdown like this since ( _mom_ ) his parents had ( _been killed by Captain America's childhood friend_ ) died in a stupid car crash of all things, and being held like this was ( _nice_ ) embarrassing. "I feel like I just traded anger for shame. And, lemme tell you, I was very angry. Like, Hulk-level angry."

Loki laughed, his chuckles ruffling his hair. "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone," he promised, patting Tony's shoulder, and who would have guessed Loki could be so nice and gentle and kind once you beat him and shot him and cried on him?

Maybe Tony should call the collapsible gauntlet that: the Tenderizer. Heh. Had a nice ring to it. "Thanks." He became aware of the intimacy ( _weird_ ) of their position ( _ew_ ) and almost gagged. He pushed away from Loki and stood up, scattering pieces of broken glass and cellphone. "I won't tell anyone about this, either, so don't go around hoping Thor will think you're good now."

Loki stayed on the floor, hands resting on his knees. "I didn't do it for Thor." His face was slightly red where the blasts had caught him, but it was more mild sunburn than fourth-degree burn ( _too bad_ ). The leather outfit, though, was completely ruined ( _good_ ). "I did it for me."

Humming, Tony moved his wrist around gingerly. The gauntlet had been crushed beyond repair in their struggle and he would need to cut it off soon if he wanted the continued use of his right hand. "What happened to the doing me a favor thing?" He put as much sarcasm as he could into the that.

Loki peered up at him, disheveled and ruined and weirdly handsome for it. He gave Tony a small smile ( _pretty_ ) and shrugged. "Truthfully? I saw myself in you."

Tony balked. "How about be less truthful next time." Though he had to wonder, again, who was the Steve to Loki's Tony. Who had he tried so hard to please that he'd put their wants over his needs? He shook his head. The last thing he needed right now was to empathize with a dude that had tried to take over the world with an army of space whales and cyborgs. And thrown him through a reinforced-glass window. "I need a drink." He offered Loki a hand up. "Want one?" he added out of habit ( _idiot_ ).

Loki took Tony's hand, but mostly as a show. Neither of them were under any delusions that Tony would remain upright if he put any actual weight on it. "I'll have to decline. I have been away from Asgard too long."

"Good," Tony said flippantly, grinning. "I don't actually want you here." He really needed to sit down and ice his ankle. And his head. And his wrists, both of them. And he didn't want to do it in front of Loki, who was barely even bruised. "Nice catching up with you. Not. Now fuck off back to Vikingard."

Smiling knowingly at him ( _is my skin transparent or_ ), Loki bowed his head. "I shall return soon. For the drink, of course."

"Of course." Tony found the corner of his mouth twitching up without permission. Sassy asshole. Sassy asshole that had held him while he bawled his eyes out. Damn him. "Don't let the wormhole hit you on your way out. Actually, wait, I take it back. _Please_ let the wormhole hit you on your way out."

"I shall try my best," Loki said, rolling his eyes. And then, with a perfunctory "Farewell", he vanished into golden sparks that winked out of existence before they touched the floor.

Once he was gone, Tony stopped holding himself upright and he grabbed his aching hip. "Owwww." Bastard hadn't pulled a single punch, had he? Fuck. He was a mere mortal, and he hated being reminded of it. Groaning, he limped his way towards the stairs ( _note to self: elevator_ ). Something crunched under his foot and it turned out, when he checked, to be the broken SIM card. He couldn't muster enough energy to care. "Friday, clean this up."

No response. Had Loki disabled her somehow? Made sense, she'd have gotten someone. Fucking ass, touching his AI. Ruining the compound he'd built for the Avengers ( _not home only two people live here now not me_ ). Ruining Tony's one chance at getting his life _(sad crappy guilty life_ ) back together.

He wondered if he could sneak past the napping Rhodey. He really didn't want to ( _burden his best friend who'd gotten paralyzed because of him_ ) deal with his probing questions. He really needed a drink and a bubble bath in the jacuzzi right now.

Mindful of his ankle, he grabbed the handrail _(ow what_ ). only for the sharp edges of the gauntlet to dig into his flesh and make him bleed. Okay, priorities: first he'd get his gauntlet off, and _then_ a drink and a bubble bath in the jacuzzi. He could deal with the rest of... everything afterwards.

Maybe he'd even call Pepper.


	2. now it's your turn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki guides Tony to a ~~very bad no good~~ excellent idea that might actually work

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the length.... Assholes kept deviating from script.

The Iron Man suit opened and Tony fell back on his ass—right into the koi pond. He sat there morosely, not even minding the cold or the smell or the way the dirty water was soaking into his ( _cherry on top of the shit sundae_ ) underwear, and let the swimming of the fish mesmerize him. It was the first time in days he'd been able to just sit down and do nothing.

And then one of the slimy motherfuckers grazed his forearm with its slimy mouth.

Disgusted, he picked himself up and stumbled out of the pond. He couldn't very well go into the house sopping wet ( _ew_ ) because the traditional tatami mats would grow moldy, so he stood there, shivering at every passing breeze _(want hot bath_ ), letting the water drain from his clothes. He managed to wait all of a thirty seconds ( _hot bath hot bath_ ) before he gave up and made his way into the house ( _no wait shoes_ ). He barely remembered to kick his sodden shoes off, not even caring where they went, since they were ruined anyway ( _should stop wearing loafers what a waste_ ).

He ( _ran_ ) ( _shit almost slipped_ ) walked to the bathroom, glad that twenty-years-ago-Tony had restrained his inner geek long enough to install hot water and a jacuzzi in his brand-new traditional Japanese house. He was already looking forward to the jets. The second the glorious hot tub came into sight, he started peeling off his clothes, but then he remembered that this house didn't have ( _jarvis_ ) Friday micromanaging absolutely everything. He would have to wait for the thing to fill.

Well, shit. His bath was going to take a while to get ready.  

He turned the pump on and finished stripping before putting on his fluffiest bathrobe ( _feels so gooood_ ). Cracking his spine, he grabbed the mess of wet clothes and took them to the washing machine in the next room, his footsteps loud in the ancient silence of the house. The machine took about two minutes to figure out ( _note to self: friday house asap_ ), but he managed to get it going.

Pepper ( _no_ ) would have been ( _no stop it_ ) so proud.

The chronic hole in his chest that had opened up when she _(why_ ) left him started acting up again. He shook his head at himself. Pathetic. Alone in a giant house in a country he only visited for Stark Industries reasons, cold and wet and shaking and pining for the woman who left him. Regrets churned in his gut like the clothes in the washing machine.

"Time to drown them in booze," he murmured. Inhaling past the constriction in his throat, he straightened and went to what in a modern house would be called the living room. After seven hours in the armor, the tatami mats felt good on his feet.

The minibar was just as he had left it five days ago when he discovered why Stark Industries ( _no)_ missiles had been stolen ( _no)_ from an US military base ( _I SAID NO_ ) in Japan—no! No thinking allowed. Booze time.

He sighed and grabbed a half-full bottle of Johnnie Walker, his best friend as of late, and continued on to the humongous sofa, not even bothering with a glass ( _why pretend i'm not drinking the whole thing_ ). He plopped down and the squishy beast nearly swallowed him whole.

It crossed his mind that it had been Pepper ( _goddamn i miss_ ) who'd recommended it, back before they'd started dating ( _before Afghanistan even_ ), sure it would be excellent for cuddling with his one-night stands. It was a pity he would never get to use it with her ( _she ran out of cuddles ran out of love_ ).

No. No Pepper.

He opened the bottle hard enough he thought he might crack it, threw the cap over his shoulder and took three long swigs. He took comfort in the burn and the nutty aftertaste. The vapors made his eyes burn too ( _it's not the whisky Tony_ ), so he blinked several times. His eyes landed on the scrolls hanging on the wall on either side of the TV. Those were Pepper too ( _pepper everywhere)_.

"Friday," he said suddenly, voice subdued, "make a list of the three best interior decorators in Japan and ask for budgets."

She didn't answer.

Right. No A.I. in the house. Just ghosts.

He took another swig and turned on the TV, hoping it would help him pass the time until his bath was ready.

Mistake.

"—four missiles, allegedly deployed by North Korean extremists earlier this week—"

( _rockets with his name on them sailing through the sky iron man and vision chasing them there are too many and they are so late_ )

"—is wondering, why the UN waited so long to deploy the Avengers—"

( _itching itching itching to stop them can't stay still but have to waiting for orders from droning voices debating in his ear voices of men on another continent still deciding)_

"—Sokovia Accords the tragedy could have been prevented—"

( _his heart stopping the Earth rippling buildings falling falling falling red tape leash around his throat ignoring orders that never came as a metropolis crumbled_ )

It took him three tries to turn the TV off. His heart was in his mouth, beating hard and slick; his chest worked like bellows, lungs aching for oxygen ( _panic attack_ ) that never came. He took the bottle to his lips with shaky hands and swallowed ( _burns_ ), inhaled, swallowed, exhaled, swallowed ( _it burns_ ), inhaled, swallowed, exhaled, swallowed ( _need air_ ) and over and over until he got his breathing under control. He might have gotten a few drops of Johnnie Walker's finest down his lungs, but they'd had ( _vomit cocaine dirty water in a cave shrapnel_ ) way worse, he'd survive.

Unlike 80,000 ( _climbing_ ) South Koreans that had been living in Seoul until that week.

Fuck. If only he'd been _faster_.

He'd foreseen this whole mess with the Sokovia Accords as only a futurist ( _mess-tinted glasses_ ) could, and he'd still been powerless to stop it.

The shift in public opinion ( _heroes to rabid guard dogs_ ) could have had only one possible conclusion: eventually someone would try to collar the Avengers. He'd thought he could ride the ensuing tsunami and steer things from the crest of the wave, but then the UN had happened. He'd signed the Accords anyway, already ten, twenty, a hundred steps ahead. Public opinion was a fickle thing: all it would take to get the Accords amended was one emergency where the orders came would come too late for the muzzled superheroes to save the day. He'd planned on forging a reality check.

No one would die, everyone would boo, the Accords would be amended, win-win all around. World would be saved, another _(rwanda bosnia sudan sri lanka)_ UN peacekeeping disaster would be avoided, the Avengers would come out on top, he would prove Steve wrong. Win-win-win.

Hubris. Sheer fucking hubris.

He hadn't factored in the myriad Zemos, Vankos, Killians, Lokis, Rumlows, who knew what else ( _tony starks_ ) licking their chops, just waiting for their chance. Hadn't counted on Steve Freedom Rogers bailing on him. Hadn't foreseen that he would be left with a grand total of two Avengers on active duty.

He'd been too slow. He'd dropped the ball and now an entire country was minus a government and plus a host of bumbling well-meaning White and Blue Helmets.

Letting out a shuddering breath, he raised the bottle to his lips and chugged. Booze was the best comfort food. Was the best comfort, period, when you had no one to talk to because everyone in your life had either left you or been screwed over ( _by me_ ) too many times to keep piling shit on them. Well, Vision didn't fall into any of those categories, but being near ( _jarvis' son)_ him made Tony uncomfortable. And also he'd been avoiding the ( _mausoleum for dead friendships_ ) Avengers' compound, unable to face the emptiness.

Might as well check on the hot tub. Groaning, he dug himself out of the seat, finished the last few mouthfuls that were still in the bottle, and stretched. Bath, then a meal, then bed. Give the ( _week_ ) ( _month_ ) day up like a bad job.

"Happy birthday."

Tony jumped about a foot in the air. He whirled around and threw the bottle at the intruder ( _him again_ ), who sidestepped it elegantly. Momentum carried it through a rice paper wall. It landed with a dull _thunk_ somewhere in the room beyond.

Loki, dressed in his 80's Viking BDSM regalia, stood with his hands behind his back in the middle of the room. He looked hilariously out of place, all black and dark green and tarnished bronze in a room made of beige and light. He nodded in greeting. "You don't seem happy to see me."

"Well, my floor and wall certainly aren't happy, lemme tell you." Tony knew he shouldn't antagonize the supervillain, especially not when the closest suit was scrap metal in a koi pond, but hey, the asshole hadn't ( _rude_ ) taken his shoes off. "Came to break more of my stuff?"

Smiling like a snake, Loki replied, "I am here on business."

There was no way Tony could leave that one untouched. "Not pleasure? Pity, I know this great escort agenc—ow!" He looked down at his arm, or, rather, at a reddened circular patch of skin, smoking ( _what_ ) and hairless ( _what_ ). "Did you jus—did you just _zap_ me?" he asked, incredulous, hand covering the burn ( _ow_ ) to protect it from further assault.

Loki's eyes slid to the side, before settling on him again. "Of course not." He was obviously trying to keep a straight face, but the mischief was winning. Gone were the shadows over his eyes, his lips were curled in a little self-satisfied smirk ( _are those dimples_ ), and his eyebrows were slightly raised, giving him a look of child-like innocence that had no business being there.

Tony shook his head. Unbelievable. What kind of alien conqueror with a grudge ( _except does he really have_ ) apparated into someone's house to zap them instead of killing them? Hell, last time Loki had visited, he'd beaten him up ( _hugged me while i bawled_ ) and... OK, so maybe he wasn't about to die. Tell that to his impending heart attack. "If you’re here to do me another favor, thanks but no thanks."

The asshole had the gall to chuckle at that. And then the light faded from his face. "No, Tony Stark, I'd like to propose a deal."

"Sorry, business hours are 8 to 5 every other Thursday." As if Tony would ever make any sort of deal, trade, contract with the dude specifically famous for wiggling out of promises and screwing everyone. He was about to mention that, but one look at the alien god's somber face _(what is this about_ ) stopped him. "Fine, fine, I'm listening."

Loki's shoulders relaxed a little, thought it was hard to tell for sure with the shoulder pads ( _there is a reason they died in the 90s)_ in the way. He took that as tacit permission to walk closer, the tatami mats crunching under his weight. "May I sit?"

"Hell no. I don't actually want you here." Tony pointed at Loki. "This better be good."

Loki rolled his eyes, but he stayed where he was ( _good boy_ ). He breathed out through his nose, centering himself, and then said, "The Avengers must stand united."

The huge gaping hole ( _i know don't you think i know_ ) in Tony's chest opened up again. Loki should have thought about unity before crushing ( _still haven't forgotten_ ) the one line of communication with ( _the avengers_ ) Steve under his foot. He and Vision could have used Falcon in their mad scramble to redirect missiles; could have used Wanda and that giant-slash-tiny dude holding the buildings up before they topped over. He blinked the image out of his head and refocused on Loki. "Tell that to Steve. He's the one that got the kids in the divorce."

Loki stared him dead in the eyes, the sheer intensity of his gaze conveying more seriousness than any words could. "The captain is not a man who listens to reason. He is like Thor in that respect."

Tony crossed his arms over his chest and let out a laugh like a knife. "And _I_ am? What happened to the whole 'no compromises' shtick?" There was a chill in the room that had nothing to do with his being in a bathrobe ( _shit right i'm nearly naked_ ) with wet hair.

Loki shook his head. "You misunderstand." He licked his lips ( _so pale_ ) and let out a huff of a breath. "Compromising will achieve nothing but proving that you'll dance to his tune." He grinned ruefully, old sadness tightening his eyes. "I meant that you should force him."

"That sounds like the title of your leaked sex tape," Tony commented conversationally, unable to help himself. He regretted it instantly ( _shit shit he's gonna zap me again throw me through the door i don't wanna end up in the koi pond again_ ) and backpedalled. "No, forget I said that, I don't even know why I said that. You probably don't even know what a sex tape is. Which is a good thing, believe me."

Loki blinked at him, uncomprehending. "What?"

"Never mind." Tony tried to calm his racing heart ( _change subject now now now_ ). The memory of him, standing up again all bloody and swaying, ready to receive the next beating ( _wow_ _he really can do this all day_ ) lodged in Tony's mind like a bullet. He pulled the bathrobe tighter around his shoulders. "Forcing Steve Rogers to do anything he doesn't want to do is impossible. He's the definition of immovable object."

Steve. The star-spangled mule who wouldn't move to save the world. Case in point: the past two months.

Loki walked closer, until he ( _smells like leather_ ) was standing right in front of Tony, towering over him. "There is no such thing as an immovable object," he said softly. "You can move anything with the proper leverage." He arched an expectant eyebrow.

“'Give me a place to stand and a lever long enough, and I will move the world,' huh?" Tony said distantly, seven trains of thought leaving the station at the same time—

( _sharon carter nick fury natasha clint wanda_

_she'd sooner go to him he'd be on his side she can't be trusted he hates me she doesn't trust me_

_but what about bucky_

_steve betrayed me the world for him he'd betray himself maybe)_

—huh. He'd stopped having anything against Bucky ( _he was a tool you don't blame the gun_ ) the second his initial fury had vanished, but he didn't care enough about him ( _am i jealous_ ) not to use him. "Barnes," he decided, nodding. "He's the fulcrum. And the lever...?"

Loki's cobra smile did an encore. The effect was even more unnerving up close. "Offer the captain something he cannot refuse."

Tony swallowed his rabbit heart back down. He could only think about Loki's proximity to his bare ( _why did i take the suit off why why_ ) chest. "I can't exactly kidnap Barnes and ask for the Avengers as ransom." He had an idea of where he might find them, but he couldn't exactly waltz into the Wakandan king's ( _castle_ ) residence uninvited.

Loki clicked his tongue disapprovingly. "Nothing so ham-handed. You brains must be addled." He grabbed Tony's neck, pulled him uncomfortably close, and jerked his head up to meet his eyes ( _whoa sea green)_ with a thumb jammed under his chin. "Think. What is it the captain wants most for his friend?"

The aggressive intensity going on ( _prey prey i am prey_ ) was really freaking Tony out. He wanted nothing more than to take a step back but Loki might actually crush his throat this time. He was already feeling a little woozy, booze ( _i'll never drink again i swear_ ) and terror were a bad combination. "You tell me," he murmured. "I obviously don't know him at all. Never did."

Nose wrinkling, Loki turned his face away. "Mortal—you _breath_ ," he hissed. In his recoiling, his grip on Tony's neck became softer. "Ugh."

Tony could have stepped back ( _do it do it get away_ ) right then and there, but Loki's hand was warm and ( _pepper used pat my neck like this_ ) it felt nice. So he didn't. The last time he'd been touched this gently ( _when loki held me no that was to restrain me pepper then_ ) had been nearly ( _four no we were already fighting then five no six_ ) six months ago.

And then the hand ( _nooo_ ) vanished. And he was free.

Apparently recovered from the assault on his nose, and completely blind ( _or is he pretending_ ) to Tony's conflicting emotions, Loki continued, "Rogers wants his friend happy and whole and free."  

Rhodey flashed through Tony's mind.

"And, currently, Barnes has been placed in stasis, as per his own request." Loki smiled distantly. "He cannot seek the help he needs, because he is a fugitive. He fears anyone using the words to turn him back into the Winter Soldier and make him kill innocent people."

"Yeah. Someone making you a puppet and forcing you to kill people would suck." Tony remembered Wanda's magic fingers rewiring his brain so subtly he'd only learned it had happened when she apologized. But at least she had only given him nightmares ( _i watched my friends die_ ), not forced him into anything ( _made ultron all by brilliant myself_ ), unlike Loki had done to Clint. "Barton sends his love, by the way."

The tiniest of flinches ( _low blow zero regrets_ ). Loki bit his lip and averted his face for a second. He opened his mouth as if to speak, stopped, met Tony's gaze again ( _there are deaths in his eyes_ ), and said, "I doubt 'love' is the word he would use." He mulled over something and then, after a pause, added, "Being in thrall is truly unpleasant."

Tony narrowed his eyes at him ( _is he talking from experience_ ), wondering. But who cared about Loki, right? Not him ( _i think i do though_ ). Time to get back on track, or else the hot tub would have to be renamed to tepid tub. And his toes were freezing. "So, anyway, what can I offer to Captain America's broken boyfriend?"

Loki drew himself back from whatever dark place he'd been in. "You can get him pardoned. Make him an Avenger," the corner of his mouth twitched ( _is it grin or grimace_ ), "for what that's worth. And, more importantly, you can fix him with your little memory altering process."

Tony's jaw dropped ( _how_ ). "How do you know about B.A.R.F.?" Wait, how did he know what he knew ( _the cryogenic chamber the activation words the fear_ ) about Bucky? He went over the entire conversation in his head, then what he remembered of their other conversation ( _how did he know about steve leaving or the phone shit does he know about vision and the stone from his staff oh shit_ ) two months ago.

There were quite a few things Loki could not, _should_ not have known, especially all the way back in Vikingland?

Shaking his head, he took a step back, then another. "Have you been spying on us?"

A smile spread over Loki's lips. "When one sits on the throne of Asgard, one can see very far." Amusement danced his in eyes.

Right, the magical throne ( _wait_ ) with the unpronounceable name, Thor had mentioned you could see anything and everythi—wait. The throne? The _throne?_

"You're king?" Tony asked, fireworks going off in his head. Thor had said he'd turned down the crown, that his old man was best suited, etcetera. He'd also claimed Loki had died, which was obviously untrue. So either Thor had lied or ( _makes more sense_ ) Loki had faked his death. And everyone knew he had a grudge against Odin. "You _usurped the throne_?"

Loki laughed. "In a manner of speaking, I suppose." He gave Tony a lopsided grin. "As far everyone is concerned, Loki Odinson is dead and Odin still reigns." He buffed his ( _black does he paint them_ ) fingernails on his coat-armor-thing and then examined, ever the picture of smugness. "Some say he has become an even wiser and better king."

Tony stared a bit, gaping, and then closed his mouth with an audible click. "Well then, you majesty—wait, is 'your majesty' okay for the king of Asgard or should I use something else?" He grinned. "Your excellency? Your highness? Sire?"

"Do I need to zap you again?" Loki asked, in the precise same tone of voice other people used to ask 'do you want fries with that'. He waved a hand carelessly in Tony's general direction. His index finger ended up ( _uh oh_ ) pointing at the _(arc reactor exit wound_ ) scar in Tony's chest, visible in the V of the robe collar.

Swallowing hard ( _oh right can kill me with his brain_ ), Tony lowered his eyes to it and watched it warily. "Nope, I'm fine. Message received." It was a good thing he hadn't rolled up his sleeves, or else Loki would be seeing the goosebumps that had spread all over his arms.

"Thought so." Loki lowered his hand _(oh thank god)_ and tilted his head. "You were asking...?"

Right. Tony let out the breath he'd been holding ( _coward_ ) and stuffed his shaky hands in his pockets ( _keep it together stark_ ). "I was asking what the hell you need me for." He schooled his face ( _think_ _senate hearing thought_ ) and made a show of shrugging. "I mean, you're _il capo di tutti i capi_ now. You can do aaaanything you want, all by yourself. So, what gives?"

Loki huffed and inclined his head, a fingertip rubbing his brow. "The Avengers must stand united—"

"Yeah," Tony cut in, "you said that already."

Loki glared at him "—and so must the Nine Realms," he finished. He pierced Tony with his pale, pale snake eyes, pupil widening like an oil spill _(is he scared or_ ). "A bigger threat is coming."

Fuck. Tony's toes curled on the tatami mats, the texture grounding him. "I knew it." He'd been right all along ( _i told you so steve rogers_ ), but it didn't feel like a victory. He'd been carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders for years, and now Loki had piled on the weight of the universe. He missed the time ( _before afghanistan_ ) before he'd started caring about the fate of the world. Back then he'd been ( _a piece-of-shit human being_ ) the one always holding all the cards; nowadays he counted himself lucky if he knew it was a card game.

"And you warned them, did you not?" Loki asked—

_A hostile alien army came charging through a hole in space. That up, there? That's... that's the endgame._

—and put a hand on Tony's shoulder, jolting him back to reality. "But they didn't listen." He smiled sadly ( _you too huh_ ). "They never do." He squeezed Tony's shoulder ( _thank you_ ).

The reassuring weight grounded him. "And worse, they mock you." He laughed bitterly—

_Sounds like a cold world. You played with something you don't understand. Every time someone tries to win a war before it starts, innocent people die. You never hesitated._

—and blinked, eyes feeling too dry. "And scold you for taking 'unnecessary' measures."

Loki nodded. "Sound familiar."

It was weird, having this much in common with _(a liar murderer genocidal bag of cats that can't even conquer the world properly)_ him, of all people, but... Tony had been special all his life. He'd reveled in it, at first. Except the whole "one of a kind" thing meant that there had never been anyone who _got_ him. Until Loki, apparently ( _what does it say about me_ ).

He looked up at Loki, who was off in his own universe ( _should i hug him_ ) and face painted with the unguarded expression of a lost boy. Apparently, they were ( _so awkward_ ) having a moment. Tony normally hated moments and avoided them with off-putting jokes, but Loki had already seen him ( _raging screaming bawling broken clinging staring into nothing_ ) through a breakdown.

They were already so deep into awkward territory that he didn't know if he could come back. At that point, why stop walking?

Knowing full well Loki might crush him for it, Tony stepped into his personal space and pressed his face into Loki's chest. The leather was unyielding ( _armor right)_ and stank a fair bit ( _note to self: get loki proper leather_ ), and the cool metal decorations ( _ow_ ) bit into his skin. And if Loki ( _come on man you're killing me here_ ) didn't do something in the next five seconds, he was going to throw himself back in the koi pond.

Eventually, Loki's tense frame relaxed and he ( _there's_ _so much loki_ ) embraced Tony, sinking into the hug with the kind of sigh Atlas ( _i feel you_ ) might make if he ever got a five minute break and a chance to sit down. And, hell, Tony had hugged Loki because he'd looked like he seriously needed one, but turns out Tony needed one, too. His arms came up readily around Loki's chest ( _i can feel him breathing_ ) and clutched at the leather on his back.

( _when was the last time i hugged someone like this pepper she stopped hugging me after ultron i fucked up a perfectly good thing she's never coming back have i hugged rhodey since the he fell i can't remember note to self: hug rhodey_ )

The acrid smell of the leather finally became be too much, and Tony sneezed. Twice.

Loki snorted, his breath ruffling Tony's hair, and pulled away.

"Yeah, you laugh," Tony grumbled, rubbing at his nose, "but you are the one with the stinky getup."

Loki laughed this time, a lighthearted _ehehehe_ sound, his eyes crinkling up and everything. "You're one to complain! You, who smells of armpits and old sweat and unwashed hair." He snickered some more.

Blushing hotly, Tony adjusted the bathrobe around himself. "And pond water. Don't forget the pond water." He chuckled. "You own damn fault. I have a perfectly good bath waiting for me." He poked Loki in the stomach with his index finger. "Hold your horses next time."

Loki lifted his hands palms up, conceding the point. "Duly noted." He grinned a tiny shit-eating grin ( _that's a new one_ ) and added, "Of course, that means I'll have to watch you bathe, so I know when you are done."

"Har har." Tony rolled his eyes. "Okay. So, to recap. I offer Cap's BFF immunity, a job, and free healthcare—"

"No."

"—in exchange for Cap signing the Accords," Tony finished, nodding. Then he realized what Loki had said. "What, what?"

Loki stared at him like ( _ouch_ ) he'd just said he didn't believe in evolution.  "Barnes would never accept that. And even if he did, Rogers would never forgive you for making him choose between his friend and his principles."

Okay, so maybe Loki had a point. Tony had been awake for 50 hours straight, he was allowed to be a little stupid ( _shut up_ ). "Then what do I do?"

Loki bared his teeth in a lion smile. "You offer Barnes, out the goodness of your heart, a new arm and a chance to rid himself of the Winter Soldier forever." He closed his eyes and sighed in pleasure ( _disturbing_ ), savoring his ( _evil evil_ ) plan. "But of course, you are a signatory of the Accords, and you can't exactly harbor a dangerous 'enhanced' fugitive. And you can't just grant him immunity just like that, can you? What would the people say?" He looked at Tony expectantly.

Tony ( _think i see where this is going_ ) rubbed his chin. "They wouldn't like it. They would demand justice." But what could he do? Sticking Barnes in some prison would be—oh. "Community service!" He ran some calculation in his head and ( _oh yes this could actually work_ ) he liked the results. "I can guarantee erasing his memories provided he turns himself in. I have enough clout that I can promise him community service instead of prison." He couldn't believe it hadn't occurred to him first. "And what better way to serve the community than signing the Accords and becoming an Avenger?"

He would get Barnes. If his fear of himself was so great, he would take Tony's offer and its myriad benefits. Well, Steve could forbid him from taking it, but Barnes wouldn't appreciate being collared again, not after he fought so hard to be free. Barnes would come.

And Steve? If he tried to stop Barnes, to restrain him and order him around 'for his own good', the other Avengers might actually leave him over it. If he didn't stop Barnes, there was no way in hell he let them be separated; he'd follow. And then he'd either have to retire and leave the world-saving to others, which he never would, or sign and become an Avenger with Barnes.

He could probably offer the same reduced-sentence-community-service to the other ex-Avengers. Wilson would probably take it. Hawkeye too, if only to see his family again ( _note to self: check up on them_ ). And Wanda probably missed Vision—

Wanda. Wanda with the magic fingers that could reach into a brain and rewire it.

His face fell. "Houston, we've got a problem," he sighed. "They have Wanda with them."

Loki laughed derisively. "The little witch," he scoffed ( _tell me how you really feel_ ). "I'm sure they would love to put Barnes' mental stability in the hands of a girl with no healer training and who's had her powers for all of two years."

( _well looks like someone's scared he might be out-magicked_ )

Tony tried not to grin too obviously.

Either oblivious or indifferent to Tony's opinion, Loki continued, "Powers, I might add, borrowed from an artifact which you _evidently_ don't understand, considering you gave it _a body,_ " Loki finished, his entire face broadcasting his consternation and bewilderment.

"What is it?" Tony asked, curious. He and Bruce had analyzed the thing extensively and the only thing they got from it was ( _ultron_ ) a perfectly good AI turned into a genocidal psychopath.

"It's called the Mind Stone." Loki waved a dismissive ( _i'm a scientist so sue me if i want to know_ ) hand in the air. "I'll bring you a book. The point is that no one would trust the red witch with such a delicate task."

"Fair enough." Tony was already salivating over the idea of answers ( _take his mind off current affairs too double win_ ) and everything sounded legit, so... "Is this the part where you fuck off? 'Cause I've been looking forward to this part since you came here."

"Almost." Loki did a weird gesture with his hands, blurring reality for a second, and suddenly a bottle was in his grasp. He offered it to Tony. "Happy birthday."

It was made of frosted glass and dusty to boot, but Tony could see the golden liquid ( _asgardian booze_ ) inside. He took it. "Looks like champagne. What is it?"

"Mead. Mother saved some of her honeymoon mead for Thor and me." Loki smiled fondly at the bottle. "It was a gift from her parents, the King and Queen of Vanaheim." He gave Tony a long stare. "Drink it responsibly."

Pft, like Tony ever did anything responsibly. However, if this was anywhere as strong as whatever Thor had given them at that ill-fated party... "Sipping liquor. Got it." He narrowed his eyes at Loki. "What's wrong with it? Why are you giving it to me?"

Loki laughed. "Suspicious. I like it. I don't drink. And I don't want my brother to have it." He pursed his lips. "It's _my share_."

Riiight. It probably made sense to people who weren't only children. Tony set it down carefully on the knee-high ( _coffee_ ) Japanese dinner table. "Thanks. And thanks for the plan." Unable to resist getting one last jab, he added, "I must say, your planning abilities? Definitely better than four years ago. This one might actually work."

And _there_ was the snake smile again. "The invasion failed. My plan didn't." And with that cryptic line, he vanished.

Tony stared ( _but you failed you did i was there_ ) at the spot where Loki had just been, two foot-shaped depressions in the tatami mat, scratching his left calf with his foot. He yawned. Whatever Loki had meant ( _probably just fucking with me to balance the helpful_ ), he could decipher it after a nice long soak in his jacuzzi and a nice long nap.

He walked to the bathroom, his sore muscles complaining, and found the air thick with steam and the floor wet with condensation. The Japanese designed their bathrooms for overflowing tubs, but this model stopped by itself.

He shed his bathrobe happily and got in, groaning in pleasure. The warmth reached through his flesh right down to his bones. He turned on the jets and it was _heaven._ The massaging pulses of water turned his body into putty. Steve and Barnes and the Accords and the world could wait for now; he'd earned his me-time several times over.

Distantly, unbidden Loki thoughts crossed his mind, as slow as dripping honey ( _mmm honey wine i can't wait to try that)._

Back in 2012, the one thing Loki _had_ managed to achieve piss off literally everyone ( _stellar_ _idea there bucko_ ), which made a united front. The portal Tony had driven a nuke through had been tiny; it had been stupid easy to fight the chitauri as they trickled through ( _so convenient thank you dumbass_ ) practically one at a time. He'd seen a ginormous army on the other side ( _still have nightmares about that_ ), literally spanning his entire visual field. Good thing S.H.I.E.L.D. had deployed that nuke ( _strangely lucky_ ) so Tony could blow it to smithereens; if the entire army had gotten through, Earth would be Lokiland now, Avengers or no Avengers.

Tony cracked his eyes open long enough to locate the bottle of bubble bath and empty a generous amount into the water. The jets made the water start to foam up pretty quickly, and soon enough he was up to his chin in bubbles. Perfection.

Stupid, stupid Loki. Now the Tesseract was in Asgard, far away from aliens' hands ( _actually hang on)_ and they'd  confiscated Loki's scepter —the Mind Stone, was it?— to study it and make ( _ultron and wanda_ ) weapons to combat a future alien invasion... like the one Loki had just hinted was coming.

The absolutely _magnificent_ bastard.

  
Tony laughed so hard he choked on the bubbles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, we're done. It was lovely to see you.


End file.
